inthelouvre.org

Discover New Blogs Week

Every so often I make a post in one of my journals (usually my writing journal on LJ) with links to blogs that I’ve recently discovered. I spend hours blog-hopping, reading articles, getting to know the posters, and sometimes falling absolutely in love with posts and ideas, then I take five minutes and share those loves with my friends. Thus, I’ve found Dewey’s WeeklyGeeks challenge for this week to be right up my alley. I enjoy browsing blogs - not least reader blogs - and sharing them. I hope that my visitors will find these five to be as interesting as I have!

Bookworm caught my interest in the first post, as it mentions Philip Roth. Philip Roth is one of those authors I collect, and though I have only read one of his books, I own seven. As I read further, I found an intriguing, intellectual blogger who writes when she has something to say, rather than to fill time (that is always a plus to a reader). Plus, I really like the footer, which is so simple but totally perfect.

Bookworms and tea lovers is simply designed - straight forward with centered content and roses. Who doesn’t like roses? I like roses. I can’t deny that design helps keep me at a website longer if the first post doesn’t satisfy, but I didn’t have to worry about that with this blog. I found myself reading the first post, and the second, and the third… All the way down to the bottom, and only when I got there did I realize how long I’d just spent at this blog!

There is a redhead who reads, and her blog is called This Redhead Reads. I enjoy her style, her miscellaneous bookish links, plus she reads very quickly, which means she has a lot of books to recommend. Plus, you have to admit, the red hair is pretty awesome!

I am a big fan of corny jokes, especially ones that involve chickens, so I couldn’t resist the allure of Bibliolatry after I read this post. It was the one and only time I said LOL and meant it, and when I read the joke to my boyfriend he shook his head and smiled as if to say, “oh, you.”

Two words: Literature Quizzes. Though The Books of my Numberless Dreams has more to offer than just those, those are really quite awesome and I’ve found myself eager to figure out the answers before I look at them!

I tend to like blogs more if they talk about books, not just about books. They have reviews, yes, but they also include thoughts on reading, different kinds of books, bookish ideas, etc. Every so often, there may even be a personal post thrown in there. It’s more interesting to me to read about the experience of reading than it is to read some straight-forward book reviews. Don’t get me wrong - I love reading those too, though I never read based on a single recommendation (I have to get many from different perspectives), just as I don’t reject a book based on anyone else’s distaste for it. Reading book reviews is fun, but I don’t generally get a lot out of them.

“Future of the Planet”

“I heard that the bananas we eat today won’t be the same bananas we eat twenty years from now.”

“Is that right?” Eve replied, uninterested, clearly beginning to regret making this decision. She sat across from the dull-eyed, too-thin man whom her mother introduced to her. He was excited to be on this date, this outing as Eve preferred to call it, not wanting it to sound too official. He’d probably expect another one.

“Yes, and the bananas that were eaten in the fifties were not the same bananas we eat now.” He was proud of his knowledge, but Eve had already read an article that explained the mushy, sweeter consistency of the previous bananas and the virus that wiped them out. It was interesting at the time, but it wasn’t quite as enthralling coming from this over-ambitious person.

“Hum,” she replied quietly, too polite to disregard him entirely. He looked at her expectantly and she shook herself back to reality. It seemed like at any moment she was ready to drift into a dream world. “Yeah, I think I heard something about that - something to do with acidity?” She didn’t want to continue the conversation, but she feared if she changed the subject it would fall on her, and she wasn’t in the mood to answer questions about her childhood dreams.

He stared at her intently, obviously disappointed. “Oh, you’ve read about this.” It was a statement of disappointment; he was almost offended. Eve didn’t know what to say.

“Why didn’t you stop me? I would have said something more interesting to you.” He glared as he emphasized the word, forcing it out to her as if she had to take it against her will. She was shocked at this sudden change of mood; mere minutes ago, he was prattering on about a dark future of the planet, not seeming to care that she wasn’t interested. Suddenly, they were taking about bananas, and he was concerned that he was boring her. At least the banana thing was true, she thought to herself.

She’d been quiet for too long. His body shifted; he sat up straight and squared his shoulders.

“No, no, it is interesting to me; I just thought you would continue talking about your theories of the end of the world, so I was taken by surprise. I’d like to hear more about those,” she lied. Anything to keep him from being offended like this, from going to her mother and telling her that Eve didn’t even try to give him a chance. She had tried, really, but he didn’t give himself much of a chance.

He snorted loudly and faces swiped to the direction of their table. A smile crept across his face and Eve could see his eyes brighten. I’ve done it now, she thought to herself.

“Where was I then!” he exclaimed, ready to take on the day - or the world, as it were. “Besides all the good stuff I mentioned,” propriety, it seemed, went straight out the door when he spoke of the future of our planet, “bad stuff will happen too. Electric cars that don’t guzzle down insane amounts of gas, the human race’s adherence to strict policies that are based in helping the environment, the emergence of new species that help further the progress of emotional research - that’s all very interesting and good, but let me clue you in on the stuff most people don’t want to talk about.”

He waved his arms frantically and any on-looker may have thought the two were fighting. Eve shut down her mind not to allow his words to flow freely through her, but to allow her subconscious to kick in and bring her somewhere else. She was excellent at putting on a facade of intense interest while daydreaming of a better position for herself.

He said something about nuclear war, ice caps, and financial collapse, but she wasn’t with him anymore. She was in a parking lot wearing a long blue dress, tears streaming down her cheeks and dripping silently from her chin. She faced the building in front of her, head up, too proud to admit to the emotion she was having even though her appearance clearly betrayed her. A man stumbled after her, distraught at her sadness.

“Wait, please, Eve,” he was saying, but she wasn’t listening. She continued to walk away from him, away from everything, and into the void. In front of her, the building was now on fire; she hadn’t realized it was already burning before. Her eyes were unseeing until she could feel the heat. The sky was lit up brightly, though it was night time, and in the distance she could hear the tat-tat-tat of machine guns.

The man, now next to her, pleaded with her; he gently wiped away her tears and forced her face to see his, though her eyes were still glazed either by the tears or her inability to face the truth. He held her close, stroked her hair, and whispered soothing words. She gave in and sobbed completely, her body shaking against his hard chest as he rocked her in comfort.

“We shouldn’t linger here,” he said softly, but didn’t release her, didn’t make any motion to move. She nodded and lifted her head, her face now without the waterfalls of sadness. They walked away from the burning building and towards a now-clear area where in their childhood a large forest occupied the space. It was sad to her that not even the tree trunks remained; she felt alone, lost, and afraid, though she knew the man holding her hand would protect her at any cost.

As they walked away from the end of the world, Eve smiled at the dinner table. Her “date” was still rattling on about the future, while she had imagined a scene that greatly contrasted with everything he said. It was impossible to think she would ever have the strength to survive a nuclear war, much less stay sane with constant gun shots and explosions sounding nearby, but no one ever said she couldn’t have an imagination.

Cat Herding Challenge

Hello, today, and for the next 6 months, I am a cat. Renay in her awesomeness is my herder. (She’s pointing me in the direction of AWESOME BOOKS but I hadn’t been listening to her until now.)

Here is a list of ten books I loved.

1. The Iliad by Homer
2. Lunar Park by Bret Easton Ellis
3. Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World by Haruki Murakami
4. Perfume: The Story of a Murderer by Patrick Süskind
5. The Dante Club by Matthew Pearl
6. The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield
7. Lilith by George MacDonald
8. Fairy Tale by Alice Thomas Ellis
9. The Sirens of Titan by Kurt Vonnegut
10. The Book of Lost Things by John Connolly

Here are three books from other lists I’m reading for this challenge.

1. The Book Thief by Markus Zusak ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
2. Inkheart by Cornelia Funke ♥ ♥
3. The Unbearable Lightness of Being by Milan Kundera ♥

I’ll be reading and reviewing these books between May 1, 2008 and November 30, 2008. I know! It seems like a long time for three books, so I might just end up reading more from other lists after I finish these three.

PS: These are my book club selections through November so, uh, I’ll also be reading these.

1. Twilight by Stephanie Meyer ♥ ♥ ♥
2. Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier ♥ ♥
3. The Princess Bride by William Goldman ♥ ♥ ♥
4. The Time Traveler’s Wife by Audrey Niffeneger ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Afterwords Cafe

Some of you may recall the strange affair I had with Nanowrimo last November. I composed a 50,000 word novel and praised myself highly for my ability to write so much in such a short amount of time, recognizing that, obviously, all of it was brilliant. I started giving into grand ideas of several novels, short stories, ideas that actually turned out to be quite ridiculous but at the time drowned in glory and magnificence in my mind.

These past few days I’ve been reading a lot; I finished two books just today, and though one far outweighed the other in quality, I recognized my ability to write a semi-accurate 250-page historical fiction much overwhelmed my ability to write an extremely well-researched 500-page historical novel. I got to thinking about how wonderful it would be if I could write a series of short, easy-to-grasp historical fictions based on the Roman emporer Trajan and his times. There is plenty of fictional material about Julius Caesar and his Rome, Augustus and his changes, and even Claudius and Caligula have their fair share of immortality in writing. Trajan, however, seems to be overlooked despite the fact that he was considered a good and enduring emperor. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’d never read the name Trajan until just now, though you’ve probably seen mention of Trajan’s Column.

And in my thoughts of wondering whether I’d be writing a historical novel or romance, thinking that the romances have those awkward sex scenes but would allow me to focus more on character-detail rather than flooding the reader with historical facts, I thought about the other book I’ve left unfinished.

Afterwords Cafe was my masterpiece not even a full year ago, and now it sits patiently behind the big green chair I always occupy, half edited and waiting for a final copy. For just a few days in January I was intent on getting through it so I could retype it and set it aside again for another revision, but my life got in the way. It’s gotten in the way of almost every activity I used to enjoy, except reading. I don’t write on here as much anymore; I have some neglected websites (my TCG for example, hasn’t been updated in over a month, which I feel absolutely horrible about now that I’m one of those TCG owners who inexplicably abandon their games in favor of life until they suddenly remember about them again); my novel is half-edited, I don’t paint anymore, and I don’t write anymore. For a time, and continuing, all of my efforts and energy has been focused on eating healthily, keeping up with an exercise routine, reading, and spending time with friends and loved ones. I’m rebuilding relationships that have been neglected, but in doing so, I’ve neglected my friendships online and the responsibilities I’ve implemented on myself (websites, message boards, The Qbee, etc).

I can’t say I’m regretful. Except for the possibility of letting someone down, I’m enjoying my new lifestyle. It’s been four or five years since I could last say, “I spend less than two hours online per day.” The Internet all but sucked away my soul for the past couple of years; we were inseparable. I’ve fallen back in love with the written word, though, and I want to edit my novel. I want to compose another one. Unfortunately, if all my mental capacities are being filled by writing and books, I find less and less reason to hang around on here. I like to be away from this chair, no matter how awesomely comfortable it is. It’s rewarding to sit here for more than a few minutes, but not enough to want to stay too much longer than that. I have immeasurable amounts of energy, and I love it. (This comes, I believe, from exercising and eating right for my body. I recommend it to anyone.)

This isn’t a note of good-bye; it was actually sparked from the Sunday Scribblings prompt. I usually write about Eve, a character whom I’m developing for the 2008 Nanowrimo season, but this week all I could think about is my own desire to compose new, beautiful things and get all these lingering ideas out of my head. I am excited again about editing this book and putting Afterwords Cafe on my self-publishing website for purchase. No one has shown real interest in purchasing it, but I don’t care. I’d like to hold my own book in print and I like the personal satisfaction of knowing I’m published, even if it isn’t by HarperCollins or Penguin or another well-known publisher.

I’m also not going on hiatus. I will continue with my Sunday Scribblings, my Booking Through Thursdays (when I like the question), my book reviews, and my random other entries with details of my life. On the face of this website, nothing will change; I am merely explaining my distance. This is why I haven’t answered emails right away, why my responses are short and unimaginative, why I haven’t been commenting on friends’ blogs (though I have been reading them). I’m enjoying my life right now, which is in stark contrast to the confused post I wrote recently. Perhaps it’s the onset of Spring with its warmer weather and blooming flowers. Perhaps it’s that in the last few days rain has come down in sheets, for so long and with such strength that the apartment swimming pool now threatens to flow over with sparkling blue water. I look forward to swimming. Maybe it’s something much more inherent, like a primordial yearning to allow creativity to flow freely within me, to wake up with ideas and enact them throughout the day. Whatever it is, I like it, and I’m going to hold on to it as long as I can. I foresee this as an active season.

To start, I’m going to log off and continue editing my book. I’m sure I’ll inform my readers as to when it’ll be available for purchase, because although I fear no one is remotely interested, I still hang here on the thread of hope.

Clan of the Cave Bear by Jean M. Auel

I sit her with tears “caked” to the side of my face. “Caked” was a word used often in this book, as though it was the only proper way to described dried tears. It’s not entirely inappropriate, but it created associations I’d probably be better without - caked food, for example, shouldn’t be in the same imagery as hardened breast milk. In any case, the book was written well enough to enrapture me; I couldn’t put it down and read all 495 pages within just a few days, and in the end, I cried.

The language bothered me in some places (it’s not just the use of the word “caked”), some bits were awkward and I had to read over some paragraphs two or three times before either finally grasping the idea or giving up entirely. I’m not speaking about the language of the people, of course; I think that was done brilliantly. Though the clan people were not actually speaking English, it was necessary, of course, to translate their words for the reader. However, instead of writing things that Ayla “said” or Iza “spoke,” the characters “motioned.” Their language is more or less made up of a series of hand-signals - sign language, if you will - and I think this was portrayed very well in the text. I didn’t miss a beat and really enjoyed the part where Ayla is learning the language of the clan.

The narration also tells the story, and one would normally think this is what’s supposed to happen, but I’m more used to books that are narrated from one character’s point of view at expense of the general plotline, so that there may not even be a plot - greater importance is placed on the Psychology of the character who is narrating. So it’s a different kind of book than I usually read, and the style of writing was thus different from what I’m used to. I recently read a book like this one where certain points integral to the plotline were repeated several times. This is not something I enjoy in books, partially because I have an excellent memory while reading and thus I don’t need to be reminded of earlier points made. Plus, even if I don’t remember, I like to make the connections on my own and figure things out my own way. In this book, everything is plainly outlined and the reader is given constant reminders of earlier passages when they come into importance again. Nothing wrong with this, I know some people need it, but I still found it annoying.

I can’t say I related to any of the characters very much. Ayla’s description is fully given, as well as Creb’s and Iza’s, who were with us through the entire book, but the other characters seemed either to embody extremes (such as Broud’s mixed pride and jealousy) or to have glossed-over descriptions without much detail. It didn’t take away a lot from my reading of the book, but I do generally prefer to relate to at least one character in the novels I read; it makes it easier to understand their struggles and thoughts. However, I do feel that Ayla was very strong, very brave, and extremely well-written. Cut for length or spoilers »

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